


A series of Inktober realated Magnus Archives Statements

by Sleep_Deprived_Student (useless_fandom_garbage)



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Disturbing Themes, Do Not Archive (The Magnus Archives), Fiction, Horror, Inktober, Inktober 2019, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-17
Packaged: 2020-12-07 17:36:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useless_fandom_garbage/pseuds/Sleep_Deprived_Student
Summary: Statement of Alex Brightman, regarding a “cursed” hand bell. Statement given on October 1st, 2012. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.





	1. Ring: October 1st, 2019

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Magnus Archives](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/526115) by Jonathan Sims. 

> For inktober I've decided to write a short statement every day for each of the prompts. I'm going to try to keep them spoiler free but a lot of them will secretly reference the later episodes, so keep an eye out. Some of them won't be canon compliant because I kinda got an idea in my head that I really wanted to explore and, hey, it's fantasy anyway!

Statement of Alex Brightman, regarding a “cursed” hand bell. Statement given on October 1st, 2012. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

Okay, well, I guess to start it all, I found a bell in my gran’s attic. My mom had called and asked Gran if she still had a table that she remembered from when she was a kid, and Gran said it was probably up in the attic, so my mom sent me to go find it for her. I didn’t mind much. Gran makes the best banana bread and I knew she’d have a loaf waiting for me and maybe some lemonade, if I was lucky. So I drove over the next morning and went up into the attic to try and find that table before it got too hot.   
Anyway, I went up and the attic isn’t too cluttered, and I’d been up there before. But things were kind of shifted and I didn’t think Gran went up here all that much but I didn’t really spend too much time wondering about it. Then I was moving boxes around, still trying to find the table, and I saw this glass case near the window. Inside was a little porcelain doll and next to her hand was a little stand holding a bell. Kinda like the one my kindergarten teacher had and she’d ring it at the end of recess. It was brass I think, I’m not an expert but it looked about as old as the doll. Now she was creepy too. She had blonde curls and was wearing a kinda faded floral dress with lace on it. I think her eyes were supposed to be brown, but they just looked black. Like a shark’s.   
When I saw it, I didn’t want to get any closer but maybe my head was just getting fuzzy from the heat that was already creeping into the room, but I felt kinda weird as I walked toward her. I reached the case and could see her still standing there, probably propped up on a stand or something, and the bell had its own pedestal next to her. It was almost as if I wasn’t moving my feet but I also couldn’t focus enough to stop what was happening. My hand went to the latch and the glass door opened with a creak. I stood there and was blinking away sweat that dripped off my forehead, and my hand went for that bell. I don’t know why, I should have booked it back down the ladder and out of that attic for good. But my hand closed around the bell and I started panicking, holding it in my hand felt so wrong and I screamed at myself to put it back. But my hand jerked, and I couldn’t tell if it was my fault or not as the clapper inside the bell swung and struck the side and let out a jarring ringing as it fell out of my hand and to the floor. I sunk to my knees then, everything giving out as that sound still rang in my ears. It wasn’t that loud but it was almost like I had tinnitus.   
My eyes were glued to that bell, that now lay on its side on the dusty floor. I took several minutes to just catch my breath and the sound of my breathing was overwhelmingly loud in the silence of the attic. My eyes were fixed on one of the floor boards in front of me as the dizziness faded. I remember putting my hands on my knees and shaking my head to clear the last of the ringing before I pushed myself to my feet and looked around. I looked away from the floor as I stood, and my eyes were immediately drawn to the now empty glass case. I knew I had to get out of there, but my legs were frozen in fear and all of the warm, midday heat from earlier had disappeared and I felt goosebumps all over my arms and neck.   
Then my body moved before I could even process the blur that was rushing towards me. I jumped back and stumbled, falling back to the floor and my wrist trapped under my back in an impossible position and I yelled out and scrambled to the ladder. It was the doll, I knew it in my bones but I had no idea how she was moving around. And I sure as hell knew I wasn’t going to stay there and ask her nicely. My wrist was aching, but I ran to the hatch and threw it open with one hand and climbed down as fast I could. I shut that hatch the second I was through it and there was a forceful slamming against it as soon as I did.   
I almost passed out in the dining room in front of Grandma and she paled looking at my wrist and we drove off to the hospital. I tried to tell her about the doll but she thought I was just rambling and I might not have been speaking in full sentences anyway. After I was released, part of me never wanted to go back. But I had to be sure that I wasn’t just crazy. Gran didn’t want me to go back up there and tried to insist that she should go up with me. Eventually, I convinced her to wait at the bottom of the ladder and went back up into that sweltering room.  
The doll was gone and so was the bell. The case was still open and completely empty and I searched every inch of that attic. She was nowhere to be found and Gran didn’t believe that the doll came alive but I know she did! She made me ring that bell and then attacked me and now I have no idea where she is. Or what she even wants? That’s why I came here, I was told that you guys do all sorts of research on the paranormal and you guys know about the truth. You have to believe me because no one else will, and I’m scared.


	2. Mindless: October 2nd, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Statement of Stanley Witman, regarding the disappearances of his coworkers . Statement given on June 4th, 2016. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

Statement of Stanley Witman, regarding the disappearances of his coworkers . Statement given on June 4th, 2016. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

I need to explain this all to someone and the police have already asked all their questions, and by the look of it they wanted to cart me off to a loony bin after all this. Probably less paperwork to deal with. Why don’t I just start at the beginning then, right? I work for an insurance company nearby and I’m not sure whether or not I should tell you the company name, but we’re local and well-known, and you should be able to figure out the rest. I’m a salesman and I sell life insurance. I know, ironic, but I’ve been working there a while and I like it. Good hours, and paid on commission, which seems to work out for me.  


This company is real big and sells more than just life insurance, so the building has multiple floors and we’re all run by the same team of investors and the like. Most of us were under the direction of Lacy though, Lacy Carmichael. She was transferred to us a couple months ago and always wore nice, professional suits. Sales Directors are mostly just glorified babysitters that get in our hair all day, but Lacy was great to work with. She left us to our own devices other than the quarterly review for our commission quotas. And that's when things kinda got spooky.  


We had a bug problem not too long ago, now that I think about it. It didn’t even register as anything more than a simple infestation at the time, because I would have called myself crazy at what I’m telling you now. I kind of justified it as a result of spring turning into summer and all of those summer creepy crawlies were now out and about. All these small beetles that were, at first, just scurrying around the break room, but then they got braver and I even found a couple at my desk! Which is ridiculous because I take great care to make sure it stays spotless.  


I didn’t really start to notice the disappearances until a few weeks ago when my buddy, Jack Michaels, went missing. It’s not uncommon to have a high turnover rate in this profession. With no degree required past high school, people get the job thinking it’ll be an easy commission, but most people don’t like to talk about their own mortality, so they don’t make enough to pay bills and just leave. But Jack and I knew each other out of work, and when he stopped coming in I tried to call him but never got an answer. I didn’t know him well enough to have any of his close contacts though, and he was kind of a private person anyway, so I figured maybe he was just done with the place.  


I checked my calendar Monday morning and saw that I was scheduled for a review with Lacy later in the afternoon. I would have preferred a bit more time to prepare, but I kept things well-organized anyway so it wasn’t much of a hassle. I managed to get another buyer before our time was scheduled, so I felt extremely good making my way to her office. That was when I started to notice a lot more empty desk spaces than usual. Sure, employee departures are really common, but it was almost a ghost town at what should have been peak working hours. Nevertheless, I tapped my messenger bag against the door to her office and pushed the open door with my foot. I was a little early but I figured it might be appreciated since the building is so empty and I’m probably her last meeting by the look of her schedule. I came in the door though and what I saw was completely unholy.  


Lacy was standing there in front of her desk with her back to the door. Her arms were wrapped around someone and I could see the faintest green tinge beneath her cardigan. She was definitely taller than usual and her arms seemed unnaturally long and her fingernails sharpened to a threatening point and painted a bright acid green. In my shock, it took me a while to register the sounds she was making. Almost a ripping and slurping noise that was so carnal and disturbing I wanted to retch. I felt dizzy and my knees started to buckle, but I caught myself on the door handle and stayed upright as I stared at the floor now and the flowing blood that was staining the carpet beneath her and her victim.  


Then, I could see out of the corner of my eyes as she started to turn. I must have made a sound when I stumbled, and now I could see her face. It was angular and fierce, and her mouth was stained red with extra, insect-like appendages that twitched and a sharp row of teeth as her mouth hung open, mid-meal. Then I noticed with horror that the body she was holding was missing its head entirely, on a bloody stump at the base of what I assumed was the neck, was left.  


I sprinted out of that door as fast as possible. I had been on the track team in high school and this was the fastest I had run since. I booked it down the hallway and I could hear a horrifying clicking noise followed by a human scream. I didn’t look back though, and only stopped running once I was a mile away from the building. And even then I just pulled out my phone and called the police while sprinting away still. I had no idea if she was still after me but I wasn’t taking any chances.  


The police are looking into Lacy and the disappearances, but I doubt they’ll tell me what they find out and I want to be done with this whole situation. I know what I saw and that’s probably not even the worst thing that’s out there. We aren’t the only people here on this earth, and maybe its always been like this or maybe we’re just moving down the food chain.


	3. Bait: October 3rd, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Statement of Chelsey Dillard, regarding a college party. Statement given on February 21st, 2010. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

Statement of Chelsey Dillard, regarding a college party. Statement given on February 21st, 2010. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

I don’t know why I ever agreed to go. It all started with Jeremy Pruitt. He transferred to my accounting class last week and usually there’s no applying after the two week deadline, but at the time I figured he might of had connections that got him in. It’s a big class that meets twice a week and Jeremy was always switching desks. He never sat in the same place, and each day was spent with different people. I barely made any notice of it at first. So what, he’s a social butterfly, I thought, but it wasn’t until he sat by me for the first time that I felt strangely uncomfortable sitting next to him.  
He sat too close to me, in what he probably felt was a comfortable distance which made it feel worse, and his smile was too bright and stretched too far to be genuine. We barely even talked during the lecture because I was busy writing down notes and Jeremy simply got tired of just talking to himself. I think at one point he tapped the shoulder of the girl in the row in front of us and chatted with her for the rest of the lecture. It was strange though, the next day our class met, I went to go sit in my usual chair and Jeremy was already sitting in the one next to it. Still smiling and with the chair too close to my own, I wanted to find another place to sit, but I knew he saw me notice him and it would be rude to sit anywhere else.  
We still barely talked but I did try to stay engaged for a bit, but his smile was unnerving and the glares from the teacher never failed to shut me up with a blush of embarrassment. I swore that next time I’d sit somewhere else, I barely remember what my professor was saying for that whole class and I was going to fail my tests if he kept distracting me. That night at my dorm, I got a letter. It was just a plain white envelope with an equally plain card inside. Written in black ink was an address, date, and time, and a by line that just said “You are invited to the party of the century.” -J.  
Part of me was inclined to throw it away, but I didn’t get invited to parties all that much so part of me entertained the idea of going just as a fantasy, but I just left it on the counter and went about the rest of my day. When I got to my class on monday, Jeremy was sitting across the room already and I sighed in relief that I wouldn’t have to deal with him. But throughout the lecture, I kept getting the feeling of being watched and eventually I looked up from my notes and saw that Jeremy was staring right at me. He stopped after that, I think, but it was still bothering me by the time I got home and what do you know, inside the mailbox was another plain envelope. It repeated the same date and address, but this time said “Please consider attending” -Jeremy.  
The party wasn’t for another five days and I only saw Jeremy again in class on wednesday, and although he wasn’t outright staring at me again, I could tell he was still watching me and looking away when I looked up. The day of the party rolled around and I was still not really planning on going, one of my friends, Emily, had also gotten a letter invitation and babbled on and on about how we “needed” to go, and it was so avant garde that we got an actual invitation in the mail and she didn’t even consider it creepy that he somehow found our dorms. She ended up dragging me along even though I had told her it was a bad idea.  
The party was at a big house with a dirt yard and a dingy porch. The inside was already filled with people dancing and drinking, and Emily was gone as soon as we got in the door. I didn’t recognize anyone else there and part of me just wanted to go now and spend the evening on my couch, but as I turned, my way was blocked by Jeremy. He grabbed my hand and dragged me to the center of the room and tried to get me to dance. I wasn’t having it but his hand in mine was cold and firm and he held me close and started swaying. Everyone around us stopped moving then and the room was eerily quiet. All of them were smiling and it was the same uncomfortable smile that Jeremy always wore and seeing it echoed in all of their faces creeped me out immediately. I tried to pull my hand out of his, but with the spinning and the crowd of people around us, I had no idea what to do.  
He pulled me close with both of my hands clasped in his and his feet led mine in movement as he whispered in my ear. “Isn’t it lovely? I doubt I’ve ever thrown such a grand event before and she will be pleased.” He spun me again and I wanted to dart away from him but everyone was still swarmed around us and grinning from ear to ear. He stopped moving and studied me for a second before continuing, “I wonder, do you even hear their song? They sing such beautiful, enticing things and croon to us, leading us close until they are ready to accept us.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue in disappointment, a second later, everyone else followed his lead and the repeated sound filled the silent room before it echoed out and was quite again. Jeremy watched my reaction carefully but I just felt strangely hollow, like it was an odd dream. Stepping back, he let me go, the people edged away from Jeremy quickly, as to not touch him, but they were all still smiling.  
Jeremy then snapped his fingers, everyone immediately turned away and started walking calmly out the front door and into the yard. As soon as their feet touched the earth, I could see them start to sink. Jeremy stood in the middle of the sidewalk and I don’t remember moving, but I was at the top of the porch stairs and watched as they all were being enveloped by the dirt and they were all sunk in past their knees. None of them stopped smiling though, Jeremy had his arms outstretched and was laughing while he watched them drown in the earth. Jeremy snapped again, and now the yard was filled with screaming. Everyone was brought out of whatever spell they had been under and started clawing at the ground, trying to pull themselves out and escape but it was too late and most people were already in past their stomach. Jeremy was still laughing and yelling over their screams “There it is! The song! Everyone can hear it now and it is beautiful!”  
I was stuck on that porch, unable to move or make a sound as I watched the large crowd still sinking. They were chest deep into the soil now and some people had given up and started crying, while others were still screaming and fighting. I couldn’t do anything to help and had to look away if one of them made eye contact with me. What could I have done? The smart ones shut their mouths as their heads went under, but some still screamed and dirt rushed to fill their mouths and clog the noise until all the was left was the silence and an empty yard of pristine dirt.  
I avoid anything that isn’t man-made now. I won’t even go to the beach anymore because of how easily the sand shifts under my feet. I never saw Emily again after that and Jeremy was gone too. The police came and asked questions about Emily but I told them she went to the party herself and never came back. I didn’t think they’d believe me and I couldn’t bring myself to talk about this out loud. Which is why I came here. Please help me find out what happened. I can’t keep living like this and I’m scared of the earth’s song.


	4. Freeze: October 4th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Statement of Eric Moranis, regarding a book affiliated with Jurgen Leitner. Statement given on January 21st, 2010. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins

Statement of Eric Moranis, regarding a book affiliated with Jurgen Leitner. Statement given on January 21st, 2010. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins

Thank you for the clipboard. I can’t sit still, but I also need to write down my statement, so thank you again. It’s been like this for the last two weeks. I can’t relax, I can’t sleep, and anything I touch slowly starts turning to ice. If I keep moving, then the ice won’t spread below my feet so I have to constantly be moving, and I don’t know how much more of this I can take. It all started with a book. A book that I found lying in the gutter and for some dumb reason, I decided to pick it up. I should have left it where I found it and none of this would be happening to me.  
It was raining when I found it. My bike chain had been skipping last time I rode so I had to get a replacement and walk to my next class. I was walking down the road and saw a pale blue book propped against the curb. It should have been sopping wet due to the massive storm pouring down, but it was mostly dry and heavier than I expected. The pages were pristine and I leafed through them as I continued walking. The cover didn’t have any writing on it and the binding was just a plain blue soft material that could have been leather. On the inside of the cover page there was a small bookplate that was labeled, From The Library of Jurgen Leitner.  
It was a cold rainy morning and as I was walking, I was wishing that I had brought a scarf in addition to the large jacket I was wearing. I was wearing gloves too but it didn’t feel like there were doing anything against the chill that was slowly creeping into my fingers. I started to read the pages while not exactly paying attention to where I was going. I had left the house with enough time to get to class so I had nothing to worry about. The book seemed to be some kind of diary of a ship captain named Sir John Franklin. There were a lot of torn out pages at the beginning so the first page was dated January 2nd, 1847. I flicked through the different entries and read as he described the beginning symptoms of scurvy and crewmates losing parts of their skin from touching cold metal. They abandoned the ship and all he could do was watch as people around him started to slow down while their body temperature dropped enough that their hearts slowed until they passed out and died.  
Reading the pages felt like I was there with them, experiencing the extreme cold and rough conditions. I must have been too absorbed into the book and tripped because the next thing I knew I was on the ground and people were crowded around me. I shoved the book in my backpack and got to my feet and did my best to convince them that I was fine and didn’t need an ambulance. I walked the rest of the way to my class and tried to sit through the lecture but I was shivering the entire time and had to keep my arm away from the metal bar on chair because it almost felt like it burned. My toes felt like they were being crushed and going numb so I had to excuse myself.  
Once I was standing, I could feel the cold starting to go away and I so I ran home to try and warm up. The whole time though I could feel a coldness leaching through my backpack that had to be the book. Looking back now I could see that I everything in my body was following the same steps of hypothermia and the only way this could be happening is because of that damn book. I skidded to a stop and pulled the book out of my bag and tore through the pages, hoping that maybe I could find something to stop all of this. Each page only described the horrible way each of the crewmates would slowly freeze to death in that awful desolate place as they were stranded on that ship until the final page with the captain’s last entry before his death on June 11th, 1847.  
The book was completely empty of anything even remotely useful. No magic spells, or invisible ink, or any of that bullshit. Just a dumb diary of some old white dude that died of hypothermia! I threw the book down and stomped it into the concrete. And while I was standing there, I watched as my left foot started to get enveloped by frost that seemed to start at ground and rush up my legs the longer I stood there. I immediately tore my foot out of place and lost my balance. I toppled forwards and caught myself on my hands and in the very second I could feel the cold concrete below starting to fuse ice crystals to my fingers.  
I scrambled to my feet and started sprinting, getting as far away from that book as I could and hoping that could be the end. As long as it was gone then I would be free from this creeping frost that I could feel following me and dragging at my feet every time they touched the floor. I was out of breath and I could feel the adrenaline leaving my limbs and my muscles burned, all things considered though, the heat was very welcome. But I felt the cold at my back again and I screamed and tore my backpack off and threw it down an alley and picked up my pace. By the time I got home it was sitting in front of my door. Maybe if I left it there long enough, someone would take it and that could be how to free myself from its power. I even tried to give away but it never worked. I kept finding it close by and nothing worked. I even brought it with me with the hopes that maybe you guys know more about this thing and can save me. Please, I need help and you’re the only ones who I could think of.


	5. Build: October 5th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Not Canon Compliant*  
Statement of Brian Matthews, regarding a series of dreams. Statement given on March 29th, 2007. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins

Statement of Brian Matthews, regarding a series of dreams. Statement given on March 29th, 2007. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins

I know you don't accept dreams as a viable source of information, but I swear that all of this is real and there's no way I'm just thinking this up. I'm being followed in real life by the sounds and images in my dreams and I'm not sure how to escape, I can't even try to stay awake because without fail, I will always wake up in my dreams.  
I'm laying in the sand of a red desert. There's no heat in the air though and it's so quiet around me and I can't feel the sensation of the sand beneath my feet. My thoughts are numb, to the point where I don't feel like I'm really taking in my surroundings. But I start to experience my legs moving on their own as I start to march off to the distance. I don't know where I'm going but there’s a blurry shape in the distance that my feet seem to be pulling the rest of me towards.  
I can see the building before me, but it blurs in my vision and I can't seem to focus my eyes enough to get the image correctly. Like one of those magic eye posters where you have to look at it the right way for the picture to make sense. The building is still under construction and I can see other shapes that look like people crawling over the walls and what might be stairs. My legs still pulled me towards the building and I could see a large figure standing next to a pile of bricks where people came by and grabbed a brick before marching forward to the building again.  
I’ve experienced the repetition of this dream enough times and the figure was always there and utterly terrifying. Its body looked like it was almost without structure and impossibly stretched, with dimensions that should not be able to keep a man alive and hands that are much too sharp and the same length as its legs. It is entirely pitch black and staring at it too long could make you think you've gone mad, and then it starts to laugh as you stare and you can't pull away, and its laugh echoes and bounces, repeating and distorting. It haunts me even when I'm awake. I reached the pile of bricks and my eyes were still glued to the creature in fear as I bent down and grabbed a brick. It felt like it was made of a firm clay with a hefty weight. I followed the people in front of me; other trapped victims of this mindscape who marched their bricks to the building.  
When I reached the base, we all started walking up a pair of stairs, but it quickly started to bend until we were walking upside down. Looking around, I could see the rest of the fully built staircases and they all followed this impossible rule of gravity that caused them to shift and switch directions in nonsensical ways. When I looked up, there were archways on the walls that I knew should look out to the empty desert, but through them I could see more staircases and even the shape of other builders trudging up the stairs. I reached the top then and reflexively placed my brick down at my feet. I had no idea what I should do next because I hadn't seen any of the others turn around, but the next second, my feet continued off the side of the unfinished staircase and I plummeted to the ground and heard my body hit the floor with a sickening thud.  
Then I woke up again and I was laying down in the sand. The building still loomed in the distance and I wanted to cry as I got to my feet and started walking towards it again. Each time it was always the same, I'd wake up, march to the brick pile and grab one, by now I stopped looking at the distorted figure standing there, and made my way up the stairs with the rest of the other people. I can't remember any of their faces, I remember seeing them perfectly in the moment, they were the only things that held a semblance of normality, but I either didn't register them or can't remember now. Eventually I started to hear whispers. They laughed and spoke reverently about their horrid plans for the new world they would be reborn into. This staircase would be their mass ritual and they would not stop that vile laughing. It rang and echoed and doubled over itself in a large tide of sound that deafened me.  
On one of the last dreams I was able to fight the impulse of my feet and shift my weight enough to fall to my knees. The sand shifted beneath my knees and I could feel its coarse grain against my skin. My breathing was ragged and each of my senses came back to me slowly and I could feel the fog that had encased my mind fade slightly. I looked up to the building and could start to see it in its entirety. I couldn’t even begin to grasp the possibility of its shape, but noted the staircases I had built intersecting the other and attached to archways that sat at the edges of building yet inexplicably opened to another of the staircases. There were countless mirrors affixed to the walls and doors that kept popping into existence and then disappearing.  
I noted that some of the doors would open slightly and a pitch black shape would burst from the cracked door and escalate any surface they wish, zooming around and teleporting through the limitless doorways and arches. I tore my gaze away and noticed that the figure the previously stood at the pile had disappeared and some of the other people had clearly fought off the compulsion as well. I still kept my distance from the building with my knees still firmly planted in the ground, but I watched as a human figure walked confidently towards the structure.  
The construction looked to be almost finished, just a few people were left to trudge up the stairs and place the last of their bricks and I could hear the excitement laced into the creature’s whispers. That human shape still walked up to the building with both arms extended before a plume of fire extended from them. Screams immediately replaced those excited whispers as the fire burned its white hot path of destruction against the complex and their forms rushed to surround the burning figure. A strong laugh then boomed over the screaming and the figure released an even larger jet of flame and it quickly engulfed the whole building. I watched with intense pleasure as it burned and wanted to see the entirety of the place being destroyed to rubble. But all of a sudden I woke up in my bed and started crying at the sight of my familiar bedroom walls.  
I’ve returned in my nightmares. I wake up surrounded by that endless world of sand and though I am not under any impulse, I walk towards what is left of the configuration. The sand below it had now been converted to dark crimson glass and each and every hardened clay brick had completely melted and returned to its amorphous shape. I relish in that fact but still wake up crying as I am free from that horror again, at least for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My idea from this one came from the painting, Relativity by M.C. Escher!
> 
> https://i.imgflip.com/2xi3ec.jpg 


	6. Husky: October 6th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Statement of Mary Everhart, regarding an antique knife. Statement given on November 15th, 2018. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

Statement of Mary Everhart, regarding an antique knife. Statement given on November 15th, 2018. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

One of my hobbies is antiquing. I’ve got an eye for finding something of worth, and even if I don’t find a way to sell it, I usually keep it because that’s the kind of style I prefer anyway. Old armoires, frilly victorian dresses, some of the older make porcelain dolls, and any paintings I can get my hands on. I'm never really interested in war memorabilia though which is why I don't remember buying the piece that was delivered to me. I didn't even know that I had ordered it but I must have, because otherwise how had the delivery gotten my address with my name above it.   
The doorbell rang and I got up off the couch to check it out.   
Standing at the door were two men, I remember them both being massive and having large, husky shoulders. Their faces though were entirely unremarkable and just seemed extremely average, pretty much just exactly what you’d figure two delivery men to look like. I think one might have been taller than the other, but other than that I couldn't tell them apart. The shorter one was holding a small wooden box and extended it out to me as I stood there. "Your package" he spoke very bluntly, but in such an overly exaggerated cockney accent that it almost sounded like a joke. I looked back and forth between the two of them quizzically but automatically put out my hands for the box. The man handed it to me and I could feel his hand above mine and it felt so wrong I almost flinched away. I couldn't tell you exactly what was off about it but it almost felt like in place of flesh under the skin it was that material inside of a stress ball, like clumpy wet sand.   
I held the box in my hands and felt so lost in what was happening that I just took a step back and shut the door and locked it quickly. I didn’t care that I had no idea what was in the box or if it really was for me, but I just said fuck it and decided I didn’t want to see those two men ever again. I even looked out the window and peeked out of the blinds to watch them leave until their faded white van was down the street and completely gone.   
Looking over the box, I could see that it seemed like it was meant to be delivered to me but I was still unsure what it was supposed to be. The wooden box was made of panels and had been screwed together so I had to bring out a screwdriver and undo the top so I could look inside. Packing peanuts filled up the extra space and in the middle sat an ornate dagger with a beautiful hilt and sheath. Picking it up, I could tell that this was expensive and there was no way I ordered this. The sheath was probably made of brass and it was inlaid with a good amount of red stones that could have been rubies. I pulled the knife out of the box and as soon as it was in my hands I felt this raw power that seeped into my veins. This time I did drop it and it tumbled to the floor and made an awful noise as it clattered on the tile.  
I had never experienced something like that and I could hear my heartbeat going back to normal and I noticed that my breathing was extremely ragged as I stood there. I looked down to the knife and realized that the blade had come out of its sheath from the fall and it was a dark stained red that had to be dried blood. I couldn’t just leave it there for my roommate to find later though, so I grabbed a towel from the kitchen and picked it up again. Immediately I was hit by that same rush of power and even through the towel it felt like the knife was seeping pure rage into my bones. This time though my hand clenched around it tighter.   
It was singing to me about the glorious victory of the hunt and the might that comes with victory. And it was so tempting, just to keep holding it and listening to it croon while embracing the rush of power that flowed through my fingertips. I moved the towel and inspected it closer; I wasn’t disgusted by the dried blood anymore because it spoke of triumph. This knife had clearly done so many great things before it came to me, and I was filled with a sense of purpose while holding that dagger. I felt so strong with it in my hands and all of my body felt ready to run a marathon. Or more aptly, to go on a hunt. I was engulfed by the primal urge to chase and pursue and defeat and my blood was pumping again with that need.   
I heard footsteps behind me and I turned to see my roommate in the kitchen as she came around the corner. She saw me with the knife and there must have been a sign that made her bolt. Maybe it was the manic rage in my eyes or maybe it was an older impulse that triggered her flight response. Without a second thought, I turned the corner sharply and bounded after her. She was wearing socks and as she turned the corner again she slipped and toppled to the ground. Part of me was disappointed, it was almost too easy. I stalked up to her now and savored the fear that came from her in waves. She was helpless on the ground and I laughed in utter joy with every thrust of the blade into her body. She still fought me until she died, and I greatly appreciated that.   
I was eventually separated from my beautiful weapon, someone must have called the police and even though I still was enthralled by the call of blood, I didn’t have enough strength to escape. I am an empty husk now. I remember what it was like to be a normal person, empty of this brash need for violence, but I cannot comprehend how I endured without the call of the great chase. This is how we are meant to live, as predators and survive as the apex predators that we are. We all have the ability within us to outrun any prey and completely Live for the chase, all we have to do is allow that hunger to fill our souls.


	7. Enchanted: October 7th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Statement of Ernest Callahan, regarding a painting he acquired. Original statement given as part of a letter given to Jonah Magus, September 1st, 1810. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

Statement of Ernest Callahan, regarding a painting he acquired. Original statement given as part of a letter given to Jonah Magus, September 1st, 1810. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

To my dearest Jonah,   
I do hope that you are in good health presently. I am aware that I am writing to you before you may have gotten the chance to reply to my last letter, but I am writing to you now with the utmost need of your sound advice. I have encountered something that has shaken me to fits of hysterics. You are the only person I could think to confide in due to your previous tales that you have regaled to me. I used to think of them as just flights of fancy, but now I am compelled to believe your statements about what evils you have encountered.  
I understand that you may require proof, but I’m afraid that all I can give to you is my word of this event’s truth and hope that you believe me. I recently procured another painting by the paramount artist of his time, Tintoretto. I have a great many of his works and value them as my most prized possessions. Most famously known for his appreciation and dedication to recreating the human form through the mastery of his art, this painting was even rarer in my opinion due to the nature of the background. The piece is called “Christ at the Sea of Galillee” and it depicts the scene of Christ standing before a ship on the sea. I was amazed by the sheer depth of the sky and sea that engulfs the painting and takes the center stage.   
It is unlike any in my collection and as I held it at my bureau, all I could do was stare endlessly into the massive expanse of raging blue sea and rolling clouds that darkened the sky with a coming storm. It drew me in and dwarfed the figures depicted beside it as I examined each brushstroke. I was aware of how small I felt in that moment while the canvas stretched out beneath me and the swirling patterns that seemed larger than my entire existence. In my effort to inspect it closer, I felt as if there was a tangible force pulling me closer to the painting and dragging me into the very portraiture itself.   
Immediately, I could feel myself surge forward in what felt like a free fall. My eyes had shut with a strong sense of vertigo that rushed through me and when they opened I was no longer in my study. I was teleported into the painting and I was thrust into that fierce navy sky and plummeting towards the choppy water below. It was such a terminal velocity and I tried to scream but as the sound left my throat, it tore out my very breath. The air raced past, yet I never got closer to the water. I was simply suspended in a continuous plunge that trapped me for an undeterminable amount of time that, to me, could have been minutes, hours, or even days. The rush of wind was that tenfold of a massive storm and petrichor hung in the air along with a strong metallic pulse that set my skin alight with gooseflesh. I shut my eyes again for a long time, no longer wishing to see the torture of my eventual death that loomed before me, but it occurred to me suddenly that I couldn’t hear the raucous sound of the wind anymore.  
I opened my eyes and was greeted by my wife shaking my shoulder with vigor as I lay bent over the painting. My first move was to knock it to the floor and away from me. My second was to cast it into the roaring fire, hopefully that wind could at least feed my flames in payment for the horrid nightmares that were sure to plague me from this confrontation. Jonah, I am unsure of what I found in that dreadful painting but I hope that my actions may provide respite to any future victims that this monstrosity might have thought of claiming. Whether it be the cruel enchantment of some unknown power or the trick of an unjust god, I hope that I am rid of it. For good.   
To your continued health,  
Ernest Callahan


	8. Frail: October 8th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Statement of Benjamin Hern, regarding his experience exploring a cave in the Rocky Mountains. Statement given on October 29th, 2008. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

Statement of Benjamin Hern, regarding his experience exploring a cave in the Rocky Mountains. Statement given on October 29th, 2008. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

There’s always a high number of tourists in the Rockies during the summer, the Grand Teton Park trails are so crowded that you can hardly enjoy yourself. When I’m out in nature, I prefer to be completely alone. Just the woods and my thoughts. So I usually prefer to wait until late October, when it gets too cold for most campers, and then I can have my peace on the trails. I don’t usually carry a full pack whenever I hike, because I live pretty close by and I know my way around the trails. I have my favorite spots and sometimes, if I think I can get away with it, I’ll go off the path and do some exploring.  
It was two weeks ago when I started hiking the area again. Fall had already started and the temperature was dropping steadily each night and I knew the campsites and trails would be mostly deserted. It was the perfect afternoon for a hike and I grabbed my go bag that I keep stocked with waters, some snacks, and a first-aid kit just in case. I planned on sticking to the low elevation so I left my trekking poles at home and brought a thick jacket. It was a crisp afternoon and I walked confidently down the trail. The skies had a couple clouds, but nothing to be worried about, and there was no one else in sight.  
I walked calmly for what I thought was at least two hours, just listening to the birds in the trees before I started to notice the clouds getting darker. A chill crept through my layers and I checked my watch for time but it was getting harder and harder to see. I realized that it was snowing, but much faster than I had ever encountered before and everything was a haze as I tried to remember what direction I was facing. Despite loving to hike, I had never been caught in the snow quite like this before and I panicked slightly as I tried to find my way back down the trail and get away from the storm.  
I must have gone the wrong direction though because I could feel the undergrowth getting thicker, but by this point I had no idea where I was and the snow was still blinding me. Part of me figured that I should have stayed where I was, but I was also aware that with the temperature dropping this low I should also try my best to stay active. It was so bad that I almost ran into the stupid mountain. I ran my hand along the side and kept walking alongside it until there wasn’t anything to rest on anymore and I had to balance myself before I could fall on my face.  
I checked the hole and it turned out to be the opening of a shallow cave. I quickly bolted inside and was hunched over slightly but safe from the barrage of wind and snow outside. As my eyes settled to the darkness though, my stomach dropped as two bodies sat against the side of the cave. They looked old and shriveled and their skin seemed to be hanging on their bodies, empty of all flesh and organs beneath. Nothing but frail, shriveled husks of what used to be people. There was the remnant of fire in the center and a dark brown jacket that sat rumpled on the floor beside one of them. I was amazed that the whole place looked completely untouched. I also saw a sickening spray of blood against the wall and beneath their bodies.  
I know it was stupid, but I wanted to check inside the jacket pockets. They’re only dead bodies after all, what’s the harm in looking at the clothing of someone who’s definitely been dead for at least a hundred years. When I got closer, I realized that the figure next to the jacket was still so eerily preserved and resembled jerky more than human skin. The skin around its neck was torn and blood stained down the front of his clothes. The jacket was folded up by its side and I lifted it up, a letter fell from inside.  
I picked it up and saw inside the story of a woman and her husband as they tried to travel across the Rockies with a guide during the winter. Halfway through, their cart broke and their guide led them to a cave. He made a fire and watched them with hungry eyes as the storm went on and made a prayer before drawing a knife and attacking her husband. The woman fired her gun at him but was too late to save her husband. I started to read more and it explained how she then heard her husband’s voice as he begged her to eat him. There was no way he was alive, but he still spoke and pleaded for her to make him meat.  
My hands had started shaking and there was still more written, but I had read enough. I clutched it tightly still but peeked out over the paper at the two corpses. I watched in horror as the impossibly dry sack of skin and bones opened its mouth and let out a raspy gasp. He spoke in a ragged wheeze as the walls echoed his request. “Eat me.” he lifted his head up and I saw the bones beneath the torn skin of his throat and he whispered again “Eat me, please.” The shadows around the room seemed to grow and stretch and I turned around and bolted to the exit, trying to get away from this horror scene but was blocked by the mound of snow that had built up at the mouth of the cave.  
Behind me I could still hear his voice getting louder and louder as it pleaded with me to tear its skin from its bones and feast on his remains. All I could do was start digging. My hands burned from the frost as I pulled out handfuls from the snow bank but I could feel it shifting and tumbling out of the way. I started to see light and rammed my shoulder against the wall of snow and crawled my way out of that cave, leaving behind the cursed bodies and pulling myself from that awful place.  
I managed to keep ahold of the letter and a team of park rangers had come inspecting the area and found me in the fetal position at the start of the tree line. My body temperature was dangerously low and I had been missing for 6 hours since the snow storm started. My friends were worried about me afterwards but I blamed it on the shock of how close I was to freezing to death and have told them nothing about what I saw. Freezing still would have been better than being trapped in there with those loathsome bodies and I wouldn’t have listened to them even if it meant I would die of hunger. It seems that the wife escape just as I did, but I wonder if she escaped the mountains on her own.  
I’ve enclosed the letter along with my statement but ultimately, I hope to be rid of this whole nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't catch it, the letter enclosed is the one that is featured on episode 28: Trail Rations of Season 1


	9. Swing: October 9th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Trigger warning* this story is largely based around the subject of hanging*  
Statement of David Carlisle, regarding a series of visions. Statement given on May 15th, 2016. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

Statement of David Carlisle, regarding a series of visions. Statement given on May 15th, 2016. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

I swear that I am as sane as any of you and I know that these are not just dreams or hallucinations. These visions come to me at all times of the day and there have been times when this terror spread to my dreams, but I am confident in my ability to tell the difference between the two. When I’m asleep, I am a member of the crowd, people all around me are cheering and pounding their feet in a disjointed rhythm. The morning sun is just barely rising in a pale blue sky and a wooden platform stands above us. A figure is marched by a guard to the noose and the crowd around me cheers louder. I watch in horror as the person is prepared for their death and I wonder about the twisted perversion of everyone’s enjoyment of death.   
All I can do is watch too though as the noose is fixed around the person’s neck and the energy of the crowd grows with excitement until the figure is dropped from the platform and their neck is broken. I can feel the gratification that the crowd has like electricity, but I am mortified as the body continues to swing in the soft morning light.   
Then I’m startled awake and my limbs feel rigid and stiff and my first thought as I woke was, “the rope was too long, we’ll have to do better next time.” The clock said 4:17 a.m. I think, but I was sure I couldn’t fall back asleep if I tried, and with the threat of returning to that same dream, I shook my head clear and decided to try and start my day instead. I was in the kitchen when it happened for the first time, I was grabbing my mug from the cupboard and I felt a solid pressure around my neck and it felt like the floor was falling out beneath me. Where there once was solid linoleum now opened up to an empty void and it felt like my body was plummeting down. The coarse hold on my neck caught my fall and I dangled there and struggled, kicking and squirming as I saw black spots and my vision was getting fuzzy. Panic fueled my senses and I tried to scream but there was no sound other than the blood rushing in my ears.   
But then it started to fade, slowly. My eyes were focusing on the counter before me and I could feel solid ground beneath my feet again until finally the noose around my neck loosened and I swayed before collapsing to the ground. I take a steady breath and stay there with my hands clutching my neck, fighting down the rush of nausea that I felt. There weren’t any marks there but I could still feel that phantom pressure around my throat. I’m not sure how long I stayed there like that but decided that I should still go to work and maybe that could help distract me from whatever this was, or maybe it could even protect me. All I knew was that I wanted to get away from my house as soon as possible.  
I was at my desk, idly searching through cluttered paperwork as the dream replayed in my thoughts. I was a bystander again as the figure’s body was dropped and it’s neck was plucked backwards by the rope with intense force and the body was immediately still of conscious movement. I shuddered at the image and how it brought back my own phantom execution with dread. It felt like I was stuck dangling like that for what felt like hours as my windpipe was crushed as slowly as I could experience. What a horrible fate, at that time I almost envied the figure from my dreams, at least they could die quickly as their neck snapped from the force and they were instantly dead. I felt like I should have been forced into unconsciousness much sooner, but cruel fate kept me awake for the entirety of my hanging delusion.   
I thought it was just a left over experience of my dream, that I was so terrified that I projected it with delusions of the memory. But it happened again later that day, I got up from my desk and looked up to see a looped rope hanging from the ceiling. Then, in an instant, the lights flickered and felt that same rush below my feet and pressure around my neck. I still kicked out my feet and fought against the crushing weight that suspended me and my breath eventually ran out and I faltered into unconsciousness. My coworkers had rushed to my side as they had seen my instant topple into a heap in a matter of seconds even though that differed from what I had experienced. Looking up now I saw a broken light fixture dangling from where I had seen the noose.  
It has been 6 days now, and it never stops. It hasn’t happened around other people since that time at the office and I’ve tried to stay with people whenever possible, claiming it’s for my health. Which I guess, in a way, is true. I’m afraid that at one point whatever sick demon is enjoying my torture will soon grow tired this game and just end me, but part of me also wishing for this release. Now, when my body is pulled by the familiar rush of gravity, I don't fight or try to scream, I dangle from my rope and count the seconds while my breath falters. I find it hard to believe that anything of this world is strong enough to stop whatever has claimed me as its puppet. Nothing can break the strings that I am bound to and my only hope is that soon, I will be rid of this.


	10. Pattern: October 10th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Statement of Alice Donnahue, regarding her childhood therapist. Statement given on August 11th, 2017. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

Statement of Alice Donnahue, regarding her childhood therapist. Statement given on August 11th, 2017. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

I was about 11 when all of this happened so this probably happened in June maybe of 2002. When I was a kid, I used to go to a therapist, Ms. Kelly. My parents never had the time for me between both of them working all the time so when I started acting out, they got me a therapist so that she could “fix” me. My parents have always been under the impression that by throwing money at a problem it would magically go away, and so this was two birds with one stone because now I would be out of their hair for an hour every week.   
I didn’t really mind though because I liked Ms Kelly. She listened to me and our time together changed me in ways that I truly appreciate. Without her I would have grown up to be some spoiled brat. But she let me talk and encouraged me to be just as understanding as she was. She took me to the zoo once, it was a really great day and she framed our photos in her office just for me.   
She had this table in her office that I would find myself staring at until I forgot what I was talking about. It was wooden and had lines that spiraled down to the middle and felt like an optical illusion. My eyes would trace the markings down and were drawn to the middle of the table and there was a square hole there and that’s where she had put her candy bowl inside. Whenever I got stuck in this kinda trance she would usually just wave her fingers in front of my face and keep going with a soft smile.   
My mom decided to drop me off instead of the nanny this time and she actually came in with me to Ms. Kelly’s office. I was surprised and excited for our session, and maybe if my mom had the time, she could even stay with us and we all could talk. But as we checked in the building, I saw a strange woman sitting at my therapist’s desk. I thought it was odd at first and figured that maybe it was a new assistant or something but my mom walked right up and shook the lady’s hand. The woman stood up from the desk and went to open the conference room that we always used and I was confused as my mom started to follow her.   
This woman was much shorter than Ms. Kelly and slightly stockier and with long curly brown hair now instead of Ms. Kelly’s short blonde bob. I stood in the doorway and watched as they both sat in the chairs around the table and looked expectantly at me to sit down as well. I frowned and asked why I couldn’t see Ms. Kelly and the woman laughed. My mother looked very confused and stared at me quizzically before looking back to the woman for answers. The lady shook her head slightly and put down the same light purple clipboard that Ms. Kelley always used and smiled. “Oh, dear. Come along now Alice, I’m right here. How about we get started.”   
I folded my arms and held my ground though and refused to budge. This was not the woman I knew and loved and I wanted Ms. Kelly. The not Ms. Kelly laughed soft again though and reached out for the candy bowl and offered it to me. “Alice dear, why don’t you come sit down. I know these are your favorite and I buy them just for you.” I shut my eyes tight and shook my head, I couldn’t believe her and everything about this new woman felt so wrong and twisted. I opened my eyes again quickly and now my mom was starting to look concerned but also a bit annoyed.   
I tried to think of a way to convince my mother that this wasn’t my therapist but I know that my mom had met her before when I first started seeing Ms. Kelly so she should have noticed the difference. It was then that I remembered the pictures in her office so I ran to go get them. They were still in the same place they always were and I quickly grabbed them and sprinted back to the room and thrust them into my mother’s hands, desperate to show her the truth. After a second though, my mom’s eyes turned cold as she gave them back to me. “I don’t know what your problem is but you need to cut it out. This is Ms. Kelly and this game isn’t fun anymore.”   
I looked at the framed pictures more closely now and it very clearly showed this new woman standing next to me at the zoo. We were both smiling and happy, but I knew that this was all wrong. My eyes were drawn to the table as I refused to look at not Ms. Kelly and my mother and I could see a long scratch that interrupted the design and went from the edge, all the way down to the middle with the square hole. It was deep and ragged and made me feel very queasy. I was so confused and scared that I think at that point I started to cry.   
My mom stood up and grabbed my hand and pulled me close to her and started to try and tell me to behave, but I fought her off and ran down the hallway. I didn’t look back and I refused to go to therapy again. My mom eventually switched me to a different therapist and I started going again, but I refused to talk about it with him and we never got even close to how much I trusted Ms. Kelly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll post the next one tomorrow!


	11. Snow: October 11th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recording of Jason McCarthy and Emmet McCarthy’s interaction with an entity in the woods of southeast Ohio. Statement received on December 1st, 2016. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do something a little different this time and switch up the style and I had a lot of fun with it!
> 
> -also, I've fallen behind on my days which was inevitable and so I might just fast forward to my favorite prompts and do those. And then later, I'll pick them back up.

Recording of Jason McCarthy and Emmet McCarthy’s interaction with an entity in the woods of southeast Ohio. Statement received on December 1st, 2016. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

“Hey there bros! It’s time for another haunted episode where I try to scare the pants off my friends. We’re on our way to an abandoned ghost town called Moonville where a bunch of people died like a hundred years ago or whatever. There’s a big tunnel right next to the cemetery and that’s where there have been lots of deaths and ghost sightings.”  
“That’s why I’ve got my buddy Zach here to dress up. I’m bringing my cousin Emmet with me and he has no idea that we are going to scare him so bad! So, how this is gonna work is, I’m going to lead Emmet to the cemetery where Zach will be waiting for us and when he cries like a baby then you’ll be able to see his reaction when we’ll tell him it’s all fake.”

“Hey there bros! It’s me, McCarthy, and my cousin Emmet, and we’re out here to get some answers about Moonville. We had to wait for it to finally stop snowing but now we’re on the trail and ready to show you guys some ghosts! Legend has it that tons of people died at the tunnel that was built under the railroad tracks and their ghosts still haunt the area, but that’s not it! There’s also the cemetery of the abandoned mining town just down the old Hope road and that’s our final destination.”  
“Emmet has his phone and some of my ghost equipment and I’ve got my camcorder so we’re all set. As you can see, the snow is so thick and with the moon so full tonight I’m sure there will be some prime spooks out tonight!”

“Okay! I see the tunnel now! Wow, it’s so much bigger than the pictures!’  
-[Emmet] “I don’t know Jason, this place feels really unnatural and almost angry?”  
-[Jason] “Hey, quit being such a baby, it’s just a tunnel. We haven’t even gotten to the scary part yet.”

“So, this tunnel is where there have been at least 26 people who fell to their deaths from the train tracks above, and there have even been claims that walking all the way through the tunnel on a full moon can transport you through a hidden portal to the underworld! Right now we are standing on the exact point of impact of the many deaths that happened so long ago. Come on Emmet, It’s time to start walking in the tunnel” 

-[Emmet] (muttering) “At least there isn’t as much snow in here.”

-[Jason] “So the tunnel has been completely overrun by nature after the town was killed by a huge disease in the early 1900s. The railroad doesn’t even connect to the main tracks anymore and this tunnel, the cemetery, and the Hope mines are all that’s left of Moonville. Wow, it’s really spooky how big it is, huh?”  
-[Emmet] “Dude, how are you this chill about the fact that there’s been so many deaths here? Come on, you heard the stories that Gran used to tell about this place. How her brother never came back after being here alone, and all they found were the torn bits of his clothing!”  
-[Jason] Oh come on, we both know there’s no such thing as monsters. That was probably a wolf or something and with both of us here together I’m sure that we’re safe. Let’s go. We’re almost at the end and there’s no turning back now.”

-[Emmet] “Wait, you see that right? Jason, please tell me I’m just crazy and that’s not a shape standing out in the snow”  
-[Jason] “Uh, I’m not sure. This wasn’t when -- Uh, I’m not sure. It looks really tall though, and are those horns?”  
-[Emmet] “Jason, cut the crap right now, if this is a prank then I’ll kill you myself.”  
-[Jason] “Fine. Zach, joke’s over. Come on, we’ve got most of the footage we need.”  
…..  
“Zach?”

(screams overlap any spoken words)

-[Jason] “Oh,God. Oh, God. It’s after me. Please, please, I don’t want to die.”

(video cuts out)

-Archivist note-  
Research has proven that since this video was filmed, both Jason and Emmet McCathy have not been seen since. They were reported missing by their family, and police record shows that Jason’s friend, Zach, reported that he was waiting for them in the Moonville cemetery and went back to the car sometime after midnight when they failed to show up. It was then that he called the police and there was a search of the area. They found Jason’s camcorder and Emmet’s phone at the edge of the tunnel on Hope Road and the area was scattered with a large amounts of blood throughout the whole length of the tunnel, but their bodies were never found. The report lists that the camcorder was empty of all tape and smashed, and Emmet’s phone only showed blurry images of a tall figure before the rest that are too filled with static to discern. The Institute is unaware of how we came to receive this footage.


	12. Dragon: October 12th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Statement of Gretchen Matthis, regarding the death of her girlfriend. Statement given on May 18th, 1991. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you guess what episode this is connected to? I took a guess on her last name, and I probably listened to Jude's statement at least 10 times.

Statement of Gretchen Matthis, regarding the death of her girlfriend. Statement given on May 18th, 1991. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

I’m still trying to fully realize everything that’s happened. I’m not sure really where to start, but all of this is confidential, right? Okay, so I guess maybe I should tell you a bit what she was like. Jude was the kind of person that everyone was drawn to. She had such a powerful energy that burned so hot but still made you want to bask in her glory. She couldn’t care less though. She was so centered and confident, and she was cut throat. Jude was a stockbroker and she craved the thrill that came with sacrifices. But then I started to see a change in her, she couldn’t sleep and I tried to talk to her about how depressed she was, but she wouldn’t talk to me. She just seemed really burnt out.  
But then one day she was fueled again with that same intensity that screamed “Get the fuck out of my way.” Jude was so happy as she came home that day that it took me a good while before I noticed the second-degree burns on her whole right hand. It looked so awful, the skin was all warped and an odd pale pink with parts that blended into bright white patches. I tried to get her to go to the hospital but she wouldn’t listen to me. She did let me bandage it after a lot of convincing, but I’m sure she took it off once I left for work.  
A couple months later, I woke up to find Jude asleep next to me. She must have come in sometime during the night, but I was fairly confused as to why she smelled like smoke, and why I found petrol in the kitchen cupboards when I went to make breakfast that morning. I should have questioned her about that night and what she’d been doing, but from that point she was the happiest I had ever seen her. She was doing great at work, she brought me candles all the time for the house, and we were doing really well.  
I had a sneaking suspicion that Jude was cheating on me though. Her mind was always wandering and she had a very warm glow around her that seemed to disappear the longer she was with me. This could just be foresight, but I swear I can remember more than one time when Jude would turn around and look for someone else, and then realize that it was just me. I could tell that when I was in her arms, she was dreaming of someone else instead.  
The next part just happened so quickly and there was nothing I could do. I could only stand there and scream. Jude came home and made a beeline for the kitchen. I was in the bedroom and only heard the door shut so I called out to her, glad to see that she was back. She made a lot of noise then and it sounded like the was rummaging through the cupboards. I was reading a book in bed and was much too comfortable to scold Jude about the mess she was most definitely making.  
Then I looked up and Jude was standing in the doorway. Her chest was heaving with heavy breaths and there was a wild hunger that consumed her expression and eyes that bore into me with anticipation. It was as she lifted her arms that I realized she was holding a container of kerosene. She poured the whole thing over her head and threw it to the floor. I scrambled to get out of bed, but within a second she sparked a match and her skin instantly caught fire. I screamed and stood there by the edge, watching as her skin bubbled and flames wreathed her and Jude only smiled reverently while she broiled. Her skin turned to the consistency of bubbling liquid and she giggled like a little girl and raised her arms to the sky. The fire had completely enveloped her clothing and from where I was, I could feel the violent heat that radiated from her and I wanted to just rum, but I still couldn't stop screaming.  
There wasn't anything I could do and I felt completely helpless. Then I saw a woman enter in the house behind her. I think I was still screaming, I’m not sure. What else could I do? She stood right there though, across from me, and watched Jude burn. Her eyes were steady and approving, and Jude seemed to be so enamored by her own burning that she didn’t even notice the woman.  
Jude’s skin bubbled like crazy as the flames got hotter and every part of her body was now just peeling off. She was feeding this flame around her and loving every minute of it. The woman seemed to approve and was very close to the flames that reached hungrily outwards but she seemed to be completely unaffected. That was as much as I could tell before I passed out. The heat pulled at my lungs and before I could even figure out why, I saw black spots in my vision and I toppled backward.  
The whole complex had been set ablaze and I had to be dragged out by firefighters. I didn’t wake up until the hospital staff had finished pumping me full of drugs so they could work on repairing my singed legs. And they didn’t have any answers for me about Jude or the other woman, and neither did the police. There’s no way Jude could have survived but it nags at me that they didn’t even know that there was anyone else in my room with me at the time of the fire. Things might have been going downhill recently, but I still loved her. I also don’t think I’ll ever be able to look at candle wax the same way again.


	13. Misfit: October 18th, 2019

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Statement of Joel Reed, regarding his state of nonexistence. Statement given on November 3rd, 2006. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

Statement of Joel Reed, regarding his state of nonexistence. Statement given on November 3rd, 2006. Digital transcription done by Madison Paris, assistant archivist to the Magnus Institute. Statement begins.

I need your help. I’ve always been kind of an introvert but this is ridiculous. No one will talk to me, or interact with me, and I’m starting to get worried. Am I even still here? Sometimes I think I’m stuck in a nightmare, but it’s been like this for over a week and I have no idea what to do. Am I invisible? You didn’t acknowledge me as I came through the door to give my statement, but that’s been the usual, nobody even looks in my direction these days and if they do, then it’s almost as if they’re looking through me.   
I’m not sure what to do because I can barely get someone’s attention. And if I do, the second they turn away it’s like they forgot about my existence. I am constantly surrounded by people but I am flooded by a feeling of loneliness so intense that I want to just curl up on the floor. I could do that though, and no one would take any notice of me. I wonder if they would step over me, or not even see me and hit me before continuing to walk past.   
It’s not even just in person. I tried to call my mom when it first started happening. She picked up but then kept calling my name and asking if I was there before hanging up. I was yelling back at her into the phone but she couldn’t hear me. And now, she won’t even pick up. I don’t know if it’s from all of the times I’ve called her, or that she isn’t even getting them anymore.   
I realized that this was happening sometime last tuesday. I had gone to the library after class and checked out a few books, and I remember that my taxi driver kept looking back at me in the mirror and getting startled, like he was just now remembering that he was taking me home. Compared to my usual trips, I only brought back a small hoard this time. I had found the next book in my favorite mystery series, a biography about one of my favorite painters, and a small little pamphlet that was tucked away in the back that had just 12 pages. I can’t remember what it was called but I read the first page while I was looking it over and decided to bring it home with me.   
I remember the inside of the first page had a name written on it, it might have been German? I can’t really recall it, but the last name might have been Lighter? The pages were old and worn and it smelled a bit like mildew. I finished the biography first, but then I decided to read the pamphlet next. The first few pages were a short story about a nameless person who talked about his day, but ended each list with “who am I?” It described his daily routine in a paragraph at first and from that point the sentences became shorter until it just repeated the phrase, “who am I?” When I first read it, I thought it might have been a really confusing riddle and I couldn’t figure it out. I kept reading though and when all it read were those three words in a loop, the next three pages were just names that looked like they were handwritten on the pages.  
There must have been about 20, I’d say. I looked carefully at each of them so see if there was a way to connect them with the riddles on the other pages. On the very last page, there was a final name written about halfway down. I remember this one clearly because I stared at this page for a long time. The name was Jacob Feng. As I got to the end of the list though, I watched in confusion as I clearly saw a new name being written down below Jacob’s. It was mine. I couldn’t look away as each letter of my name was scrolled onto the page by some unseen hand. I held my breath the entire time and felt all of me go cold at this. Once it was done, I cautiously touched the words and they were completely dry and in the same handwriting as all of the other names. I’ve tried to look up each of the names in the book and found some of the more recent ones and all of them seemed to have disappeared. I can’t tell how quickly though and I am very worried about how much time I have left before I do the same.  
Part of me is afraid though that it’s already happened. You’ve tried to take my statement off the table three times now, and you look around this empty room like you expect someone to be here. I’ve stopped trying to get your attention at this point, and you only look concerned for a second when I take the paper from you, but then you shrug and leave the room. I hope that once I finish writing, the words on this page will stay. I don’t think there’s any hope for me, but maybe you guys here can help the next person. I brought the book and wrote a warning on the front. I’m leaving that here and I hope that you will listen.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: I got burnt out and it's not likely I'll continue these but I hope you enjoy them!


End file.
